Brian Christianzio, aka B.C. Camplight, makes quirky and perky pop tunes with a rich array of instrumentation and orchestration. Like Grandaddy, recent Flaming Lips and the just-mentioned-on-these-pages Dr. Dog, this is easier on guitars than us indie kids might be comfortable with; it’s full of plinking piano, plonking trumpet and all kinds of other things thrown into the mix.

It’s more show-tunes than tortured soul music: for the majority of Blink of a Nihilist, lyrics of love and confusion are swamped in a heady brew of arrangement and relentlessly melodic and tuneful experimentation. At times it gets too much; the odd second or two of trumpet or strings dropped into tracks like ‘Soy Tonto!’ and ‘The Hip and the Homeless’ seems forced, whilst the waltz or bossanova rhythms employed by tracks like ‘Werewolf Waltz’ suggest a half-hearted stab at Beck’s Tropicalia-infused Mutations.

For all its (admittedly minor) faults, this is constantly interesting and diverting listening. Near the end of the album, on ‘I’ve Got A Bad Cold’, Christianzio/Camplight suddenly reigns in the weirdness and offers Brian-Wilson-all-over multi-part harmonies; seemingly his own teenage symphony to God, and at last a chance for emotion to come to the surface. It’s this track that makes me think there’s more to this guy than what could seem to be shallow exercises in form over function. For that, I have listened again to the album with renewed belief and interest in an out-there, but definitely real songwriter.

B.C. Camplight
One Little Indian

I discovered this band by accident last year as the sound of their Myspace page came ear bleedingly pounding up from downstairs in the publishing department of my workplace. My gut reaction was that this was the sound of The Jesus Lizard jamming and crashing into Einsturzende Neubauten, I had not heard a better band in five years. Apparently.

With further inspection of these true children of the Myspace age I found more delight in the fact that these kids hail from Southend in Essex (my heart my Essex) and their photo shots just make them look ugly, reminding me visually of My Bloody Valentine at their best/worst. This truly looked the perfect package. Whether long term parking will see such a buzz maintain is another question but for now I am happy to feast on what I think I have found, I have found like.

Correct me if I am wrong but this is their first venture into a proper release and obviously it is on the most defiant of formats: the seven inch single. I wish I could say releasing records on vinyl was the sure fire method of keeping your tracks off Soulseek but I have to admit before I had bought this single, I had downloaded the tracks as MP3s. Even today when I put this release into an Ebay search to see how much of an investment the record has become, all I find it a “DJ copy” – aka a plain CD of these three tracks.

And these are three tracks of a purposely awkward kind. Who can fault a band whose opening track is called “Elvis” and features distorted vocals Mark E. Smith would be impressed by. The bass led ritual is as dirty as middle class kids can afford to come, distorting the truth of their apparent dysfunction, there is a lot of solace to be taken from these times. “C16th” follows as a typically difficultly titled song tapping into the post-punk jerk sound that has maintained its hype over the past few years, the redeeming difference here being the way the drums manage to dictate proceedings. Track BB “En Papier” is the death defying song that originally captured my attention with it’s end of the world exploits as it plainly just sounds like kids being tortured and kicked to death by musical instruments in the most angular and disorientating fashion of recent memory whilst still remaining coherent. If this is the kind of intensity and inventiveness the band can maintain we have a major new band to admire.

Thesaurus moment: convincing.

These New Puritans
Angular Records

At the risk of fawning too much (and falling into commercial promotion) I really have made some exciting finds for just £5 in the extensive Fopp soundtracks section in recent months. I have to admit these days more and more I find myself buying DVDs instead of CDs and soundtracks instead of albums.

If anyone remembers the feature length cartoon Fritz The Cat, they will probably recall an over-reaching attempt at greatness, a narrative with many messages that unfortunately often fall wide of the mark rather than making their point. After watching the movie it comes as no surprise when you discover that R Crumb disowned the movie. At the same time however it is not a bad experience by any means, visually fun if not arresting and mildly informative if not educating. And it was always one of those movies to which there were amazing songs I wish I was able to own.

The backdrop of the movie is the political spectrum of sixties America where people were acting as if they had invented politic and protest but by the end of the period the savvy were becoming cynical while many were clinging onto the final threads of the lifestyle as the wise became resigned to having accomplished little change. As a result there is something of a beaten tone to the community which is heavily reflected in the sounds emitting from my stereo as this album plays. If you remember from the movie, Fritz The Cat was to some extent rallying against the heavy themes of the movie, being playful with his winning charade. In amongst the level headed themes around this score, often darting in is such a devilish influence/element. This was a truly great era for music.

The CD spreads over 27 tracks, 13 for Fritz The Cat and 14 for Heavy Traffic and if I’m honest I only stick around for the Fritz tunes. And in amongst the suave instrumentals of heavy Hammond organ that is the kind of music Bukowski would drink, some real heavyweights feature in the form of Bo Diddley and Billie Holiday chip in with cuts. Indeed Billie Holiday’s “Yesterdays” is the kind of song that could stop traffic, a track that thoroughly captures the pain of nostalgia and longing for the past. And juxtaposed next to that track comes righteous gospel celebrations from the Watson Sisters, quite probably an act that I will never hear a song by for the remainder of my days. The music generally is the kind that you would play poker too, genuine lounge than reminds me of output from such alt rock heroes as Golden and the Denison Kimball Trio. Indeed by the second you are faced by literal funk, utilising percussion in ways that Tortoise could only dream of, seldom does the xylophone being used as a lead instrument sound so good. For me, this is just the stuff of genuine greatness.

As the album slips onto the Heavy Traffic soundtrack there is a marked change in pace, not least represented by the reality that the first two tracks are variations on Scarborough Fair. Again the soundtrack is represented by some true heavyweights with Sergio Mendes, the Isley Brothers, Dave Brubek and Chuck Berry. Beyond an excruciatingly cringeworthy version of “Twist And Shout” by the Isley Brothers, a strange version of the ever reliable “Take Five” appears as the Heavy Traffic portion of the CD set provides its own worthy atmospherics.

There is nothing new nor necessarily cutting edge about this CD but it does serve as an example of a great hidden gem of a release that can be found in the most high street of stores with view to creating a perfect pseudo-boho ambience and a genuinely relaxing record.

Thesaurus moment: streetwise, urbane.

Fritz The Cat
Heavy Traffic
Fantasy Records

With cheesy cover artwork, intended to shock and offend, and a cod political album title which both only serve to roll eyes and put a person off, before the CD is even slipped out of the packaging I find myself out of love with this release. And even when I get around to removing the disc, I find myself confronted in the inlay with the bare chest of Miss Scott I believe (complete with hefty tattoo on her arm). I can only ask myself, what have I been given to listen to? At this point, the only way I feel this record could be salvaged would be were Loren Scott a Muslim.

I brave listening to the CD to be confronted by subtle feedback and electronic beeps before a pulsing beat akin to an eighties moves the song forward until the more standard drum beat takes over and the expected lyrics sail in. There is a strange air of nonchalance coupled with trying too hard feel to this record. By track four the band (?) are singing how they “create a scene because I’ve never been seen”, something I find neither believable nor relieving. One song later and the band sound very similar to the current flavour of the month Ghosts so have perhaps tapped into something the music industry is currently buying into in its droves, if not those of us with something of a rebellious streak or musical taste buds for that matter. Likewise, imagine Richard Ashcroft if he were feminine sounding and The Verve actually could not play/write whilst leaning into Belle And Sebastian, perhaps this is something of a misleading description as it actually suggests something good.

The further I delve into the record, the more confused and disillusioned I find myself becoming. Gone are my judgements of the music as I return to the reality that this is a solo project and not a whole band’s efforts, more than ever do my efforts to find fruit and coherence feel pointless and futile. When I finally realise Loren Scott is just a butch female, Loren Scott ain’t Lauryn Hill, not that there is any suggestion she claims to be, just take that diss at face value. Having now squeezed out 300 words about this CD I decide I will never give it any thought ever again in the safe comfort zone of knowing that I don’t need to.

Thesaurus moment: Detritus.

Loren Scott

Wow. Everyone has wished this and now it has been announced that there will be a full band game from the Guitar Hero folks with a range of plastic instruments. Are we excited?

There seems to be lots of interesting gameplay going on including the ability to form bands ONLINE but thanks to my work’s monitoring software, I can’t access any of the articles. Reading about computer gaming is deemed as bad as viewing porn or doing some online gambling. Bah.

This is what I can read. Both have links out to stuff I can’t read.
Guardian Gamesblog post
Wonderland’s post

It’s almost enough to make you want a PS3, ahahahahahahaha. etc.

Summer seems to have arrived at last and I’m finding it difficult to concentrate on anything of importance. Add to that my birthday, pretty much everyone else’s birthdays and two craft markets and I haven’t really achieved much this month except eating a lot of cake. Not that I’m complaining.

However, as part of my birthday celebrations I have made a list of 32 things to do while I’m 32. While this list includes things like going to the Falkirk Wheel, making a dress and catching a Tarantula in Animal Crossing, there are also some diskant-related ones including the long-discussed redesign and my pledge to write 32 record reviews for the Reviews Blog. I will keep you posted. The redesign has already begun and we hope to have something to show for it very soon. We’ll be doing it in stages as it’s all got to be done in our spare time, of which there is very little.

Remember, if you’d like to help us figure out The Future of diskant then do fill out the DISKANT READER SURVEY. We really appreciate your feedback and we’re already acting on it. It only takes a few minutes and there’s a great prize on offer!

Current listening: Margaret Berger, Trans Am, Errors, Findo Gask, The Yummy Fur.
diskant interview slackness stats: Interviewees: 0, Me: 1

Yellow6’s new album, the latest in a long line that stretches back to the late ’90s, isn’t a radical change of direction. It’s more another step in a slow exploration of floating, freeform sound that occasionally gets captured onto a recording medium. The fundamental template for this music is based on the careful selection of picked guitar lines, which echo forever and mould themselves into a backdrop of lush, rich blurs of sound.

Over Painted Sky‘s ten tracks, which run together to total slightly over an hour of music, time and care are employed to let each grow from nothing, weave their way around the room and then dissipate away. This isn’t music of dramatic textural changes a la Mogwai or Explosions in the Sky, but it’s like the music of those bands stretched way, way out so that their components are placed on display for our examination.

The album’s recorded in a close, intimate fashion – scrapes of guitar strings are evident, and everything is balanced to fill the listener’s head with layers of delicate and defined melody. The overall effect is to create a drifting-in-space feel of exhilaratingly sparse thoughtfulness, that could be used to define the phrase ‘head music’. On some of the tracks here (‘Common’, ‘Eighteen Days’, ‘Maré’ and ‘Azure’) the dreamlike washes of sound are augmented by beats, but for me Yellow6 are at their best when they leave textures floating in the air without such grounding. The utterly desolate ‘Realisation’ and the mournful ‘I know I shouldn’t (but I do)’ are outstandingly cloying. They reflect the work of Angelo Badalementi, The Workhouse, Earth, even Slint, but are so fixated on their own specific sound that they are as if no other music exists whilst you’re listening.

Yellow6
Resonant

At a recent Red Hot Chili Peppers show in Oklahoma, support act Mickey Avalon was BOOED. Shocking. This led to the following message from John Frusciante to the world, and the also following response to it from, er, Mickey’s mom.

Is it fair to complain like this? Or is it diva stardom behaviour gone wild?

—

From: John
Sent: Mar 13, 2007 5:43 PM

To the Oklahoma audience,
I feel love for everyone who supports my band and our music. I play music to spread light around the world and those who are open to the light we spread are as much a part of our music as we are.

To the few of you who booed my friend Mickey Avalon, I must say that I agree with Flea that you were also booing my band and yourselves. Because in booing another man, in the first place, you show no regard for humanity. And you show that you have no concept of the amount of courage it takes to open up in front of anybody, much less 10,000 people. Because anyone who knows what it feels like to open up to even one person would never attempt to abuse a person who was doing so in front of a crowd. I happen to feel that Mickey is a great rapper, a great performer, and a natural born star. Though all my friends agree with me on this, it is obviously a matter of opinion, as with any artist, and I certainly don’t expect every member of my bands audience to agree with me, especially with such limited exposure to him. But imagine if you were 10 years old and you spent a year putting a play together, and charged 50 cents and you and your friends really decked the place out and worked hard to make it fun to come to, and you knew a five year old dancer who was great and asked her to dance before the play.If some people came and booed her, would you want to perform for them? Would that kind of abuse be what you had in mind when you were working so hard to create an environment where people could have fun, party and be entertained? Anybody who has the guts to get on stage and bear themselves deserves to be respected for having courage. Anyone watching is free to leave or go to the lobby. But by staying, though you don’t like it,and preferring to boo rather than leave, you are showing that you derive pleasure from attempting to hurt others, and that is always the result of dissatisfaction with yourself. Anyone who tries to make others feel bad, in an attempt to feel good themselves, will never feel true happiness as long as they do so. Not to mention, in the case of a great man such as Mickey Avalon, you only make him stronger, because he has actual self-belief, something which cannot be faked. And you who booed gave him the chance to demonstrate that he has that admirable quality. By the way, the Chili Peppers got booed opening for people in the early days, as have many of the all-time greats. Standing up to that shit is part of getting stronger when someone knows they are good, and it is just taking the world longer to catch on. In this sense I thank you for booing because you have served as a steppingstone for a strong performer to get even stronger.

And I also realize that those of you who booed have probably been spoken down to consistently by your parents, your teachers, your bosses, your older siblings, older kids, etc.I know that shit is frustrating and it probably feels good to take it out on someone who has confidence you wish you had. But the truth is we are all here together. One of us is here because all of us are here. If you don’t respect other peoples feelings you can’t expect to ever have others respect your feelings. As long as you attempt to humiliate someone who is opening up to you, you will never have the courage to truly open up to others.

I knew there was a chance that Mickey would get booed by those of you who resent what isn’t familiar, and I also knew that he is of strong enough character to stand up to it, and perform as great as he does in a club in L.A. where people absolutely love and adore him. There is very little I admire more than that ability, which last night he clearly showed he has. A strong sense of self is what we all want, and so we should respect those who have it. Whether we like what they are doing is beside the point. If I see a performer who I think is terrible, my heart bleeds for them. The thought of trying to humiliate them is unthinkable.

I am very grateful to be able to share the music that comes through me and my band with each and every person who attends our shows. It means a great deal to me. But when I see that some members of my audience enjoy hurting others, I must speak up and say what I feel is right. If you are using the arena we all rented together to attempt to hurt a mans feelings, I must use the microphone to get across that that is not why we are gathered there.

Thank you to all of you, including you who booed, and I honestly hope you got something out of the experience. I hope you who booed someday have the beginnings of true confidence, whereby you derive no pleasure from humiliating others, and can then have the courage to open up to the world and be yourself unashamedly.

What we share with music is a celebration of the infinite possibilites the universe has to offer. I love all who share in this celebration with us. I recommend that you use the experience to inspire you to be yourself, and to let it all hang out. What the fuck do you think is so cool about Flea and Anthony in the first place? Or Jimi Hendrix or David Bowie? Or Little Richard? They waved their freak flag high! We should all follow their lead! Have respect for those who do this(whether they’re famous or not)and you will develop the courage to do this yourself. Everyone of you is a star. Its just hiding inside of some of you. That part of you will come out if you treat others as you would like to be treated, and when you can’t find it in yourself to do so,if you just leave others alone.

All of you who we play to have given me so much and I write this in hopes that I can give help to some of you(who were clearly the minority) where you clearly showed yourself to be in need of help. If people try to push you down, don’t conform to their bullshit. Stand up to it, with courage. Make ’em threaten you with death before you even consider backing down. Be how you want to be. Fuck’em. Then you will develop inner character whereby you would always support those who have the guts to be themselves openly, for you would know that you and they are on the same team. We are actually all on the same team but some of us seem to know that and others do not. Thanks especially to the majority of you, who opened up to MA.I know he’s different. It always takes a second for us to comprehend things that are unfamiliar.

Lots of love to all of you. That’s what this is all about.

Love,
John Frusciante

PS. I know I don’t know you personally and couldn’t possibly know if you only buy and listen to what your force fed. I was so mad last night, when Fleas mention of MA received some boos, that my words were led by my emotions, and I am not used to verbally speaking to large crowds. I wrote this letter to make my position clear. Thank you for hearing me out.

A Letter of gratitude from Mickey Avalon’s mom

Dear John, Flea, and the rest of the Chilli Peppers

I want to thank you all for showing us a great time in Oklahoma City. Mickey had warned us that he would probably be booed, but the opportunity to open for your band was such a rush that it didn’t matter. Six of us met in Oklahoma for a family re-union. Before the show, John took aside Mickey’s daughter and gave her a private guitar lesson. Joy knows no bounds and the pictures from that experience are priceless.

Mickey gives his all whether it is 2 people or thousands. Oklahoma City is a long way from Hollywood and we were prepared for any negative reactions. We still loved Oklahoma , and his little girl had the best time of her life. She was rocking out to the Chilli Peppers with such unbridled joy that few in a lifetime have an opportunity to witness. You have won a fan for life.

The letter you wrote to your fans was beautiful. The booing we expected. Most of the people never even heard of Mickey Avalon, and he opened with a number that some might not find entertaining. Mickey would, of course much rather have you booing than acting bored. That would be much more painful. He is gifted with being able to focus on the fans that were cheering and for them he was going to give his all. I did however feel bad for the girls dancing. I thought some of those guys booing would at least give it up for them.

I’m glad you wrote about how everyone matters. We are all on the same team. If everyone could understand that, the world would change. And it is true, the people who have been treated disrespectfully, will treat others the same. If every one of your fans would spread that kind of love and start treating themselves more respectfully, they couldn’t help but treat others better.

I know you do a lot to better the condition of mankind. Flea has a conservatory in Echo Park . Every child who has a desire to learn music is given an opportunity. What a gift. I’ll be contributing to that cause in memory of Mickey’s sister, Tanya who lost the war on drugs 5 years ago and died from a heroin overdose. Having a place like the conservatory could inspire children and give them something more interesting to do than get high.

Thanks for everything. We have no bad feelings for Oklahoma . Sometimes people do stupid things because they just don’t know better. They just need to learn. I’m glad you are such a good teacher.

Much love and blessings

Mickey’s Mom

So what’s everybody up to this weekend?

There are two exciting gigs in Oxford on Sunday night: one is Damo Suzuki with Youthmovies as sound carriers, with Fuck Buttons in support. The other is Cove. Which should I go to?

New York female trio Au Revoir Simone come from broadly the same musical world as artists like Stereolab and Broadcast – a world of analogue synths, programmed drumbeats and Krautrock-inflected pop music. On The Bird of Music, their second album, they do nothing to distance themselves from this world, with eleven tracks of sweet-natured electronic harmony, rich synthesised melody and impassive, slightly detached vocals.

The relaxed opening track ‘The Lucky One’ sets the tone well. “A dream of togetherness / Turned into a brighter mess” are fine opening lines, speaking of confused romance and hopeful dreams. The music takes its time, with a simple muted beat plodding underneath a sparse keyboard line. It dissolves into the repeated line “So let the sun shine” before fading away. As the album continues, it skips between a couple of styles: firstly, Broadcast-like repetitive and layered sounds behind angelic, sweet vocals, and secondly more upbeat ‘dinky-donk’ tunes that are as much electronic indie-pop as they are brooding introspection.

A couple of times the synthetic backing is limiting. Moments like the cutesy videogame keyboard line on ‘Sad Song’, the mid-90s indie-pop demo drumbeat of ‘Dark Halls’, and the line “You make me want to measure stars in the backyard, with a calculator and a ruler, baby” on ‘Stars’ are almost unbearably twee, and are in danger of disappearing into fluffy nothingness. But such moments are separated by songs like ‘Lark’ and ‘Don’t See The Sorrow’, which really benefit from this warm, electronic style of music in their chilly simplicity and heartfelt closeness. The standout track is the short, intimate ‘I Couldn’t Sleep’, with ever-so-hurt vocals dreaming over layered arpeggios of keyboards and delicate beats, the total effect recalling very early Human League or the darker moments of the aforementioned Broadcast.

This album is very pleasant listening. My worry is that Au Revoir Simone get too happy, and let their slightly bland perkiness overtake the rich seams of emotion and poise that they often seem to hit upon. It’s sometimes difficult for a band with purely electronic instrumentation not to fall into such a quirky or bland trap: let’s hope that this band doesn’t.

Au Revoir Simone
Moshi Moshi Records